Friday's The Cure
by jubileelove98
Summary: AU Leyton Oneshot - Rated T to be safe, for some language - reviews appreciated.


Friday's The Cure

"Okay, meet me at my locker after fourth period!" Peyton called out to  
Brooke. Peyton turned around and began to walk, when out of the corner of her eye she spotted him. She knew she had two choices; she could either walk right past him while all the thoughts were speeding through her head, or she could go an alternate way to class today. Peyton kept walking forward; she decided she wanted to walk past him and see if he'd look at her today like he did occasionally. She loved the feeling she got when he noticed her; the feeling of want, of need, of admiration, and the tiniest bit of hope that she might not be forgotten after all. Peyton began walking a bit faster, not exactly fast, but the usual speed she set herself at when she was risking an encounter with him. "If he doesn't look, its fine; it's better that way," Peyton repeated in her head several times. As she passed him she felt a rush; he turned his head, just a little, but he stared right as her; she couldn't wait 'til after lunch when she had her classes with him. Surprisingly, Peyton made is seven minutes early to third period, so she walked to her desk, sat down, and began to reminisce. A picture of them sitting on the grass, having fun, and talking about everything passed through her head. Somehow, she could still feel the breeze of the amazing day; she could remember the scent of his shirt, oh how she longed for him. All of a sudden Peyton's mind went back to the real world; the bell rang, and Peyton turned her head, looked at the teacher, and pretended to listen while all she was really thinking about was him, and how incredibly much he meant to her.

"Hey, Peyton, what's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"Babe, I know when there's something wrong, seriously, what's up?"

"Brooke, can't we just walk to lunch, please?"

"Fine, but you really need to get over him; I don't see the big deal anyway? You two were never together, you just had this crush on him, and you were pretty close and blah blah blah, but that was over a year ago."

"Yeah Brooke, I know that, I am over him, completely."

"Yeah, okay."

"OHMYGOD, he's coming over here; please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me!" Peyton thought to herself as she saw him make his way over to her. "Hey Peyton, what's up?" Peyton just stared at him; she hated when he did this, why couldn't he just not talk to her at all? She'd much rather him do that then talk to her once in a while and remind her of how soothing his voice was; how much she missed knowing every little thing about him. "Nothing," Peyton replied coldly. "Lucas, sit down, class has started," Mr. Pinero called out. He took one last look at her, sighed, and made his way over to his seat.

While Lucas made his way back to his desk, Peyton felt that rush again. She absolutely loved when he talked to her; she knew that he was friends with pretty much everyone, and that it didn't mean anything, but it always made her feel like the only person on the planet. It also didn't help much that she hated it at the same time, too. She knew that if she had a conversation with him, even a small one, she'd think about it for days, and when he didn't talk to her again for awhile, she'd be more than disappointed. She took out a piece of paper, and began writing

"_He talked to me today, actual words! Of course, it might have only been four words, but it was better than the usual nothing I get. Wow, I miss him so much, but I don't know why? Really, what's so special about the guy? Why do I care so much, it's not like we were ever together, or that I thought I had a chance with him, I mean, I used to say that it was the fact that I missed him in my life, and that I just wanted him there, in some way. But, I don't think I even know him anymore, so I don't think that reasoning makes sense. Man, I wish I could actually talk to someone about this, instead of writing it down on this piece of paper; if my friends understood me, and seemed to actually care about me in this situation, It'd be so much easier."_

Peyton folded up the piece of paper, stuck it in her folder, and began to listen about the digestive system, for the millionth time since fifth grade. She looked at him, took a quick glance, the way she always did when she could get a chance; she loved the times when she caught him looking at her; it made her heart flutter. She took out a new piece of paper; she was going to write one of those notes she wrote him all the time; the ones that she always ended up ripping up and throwing away because they were never intended to be read.

"_You are such an asshole! Why do you make people feel like such crap? Gosh, I miss you so damn much, and you have the nerve to practically shove it in my face? You've got no heart; you don't know how to treat people; you suck! Why did you do it? Why couldn't we just stay friends, why? You were practically everything to me! The highlights of my days were always the times that I saw you; that I talked to you. I didn't care what we talked about, or what we did, I just cared about you. Oh gosh, remember how you'd call me every day at four, _

_and then I'd call at eight, except that sometimes we'd be on the phone 'til eight, and after that, so our schedules would get messed up. You know, I always wonder if you actually think about me, like, think about how close we were, well, at least I think we were. I always wonder, did you just pretend, or did you actually mean it, I'm never actually sure. All I think about is how seven years of friendship went down the drain in a matter of two weeks, and how you didn't even care; it didn't matter to you that we no longer talked, you were fine with it, while I was there more upset in my life than I ever had been before. I always wonder, but, I guess I'll never know the answer."_

She took it, and shoved it in her backpack; she couldn't throw it away in the classroom; it had his name on the front of it, and she couldn't risk him seeing it. Not that she thought that he'd understand who wrote it since she didn't sign it, but if she got up and threw it away, and he found it afterwards, it'd be quite obvious. "Bringggggg," the last bell went off; it was time to go home. She didn't have to do anything after school today, so she headed straight to her car; she couldn't risk seeing him at the quad today; not after what happened in science.

Peyton was finally home; her homework was finished, and she was lying on her bed. She put her music on, closed her eyes, thought about him, and thanked god that she made it through another day of Lucas Hell.

The sun was shining bright through her windows; it was a Saturday, and Peyton finally had a Lucas-less day! She went through her day, hung out with her friends Jessica and Patty, went shopping, and filled up her gas tank with the paycheck she received the day before. When Peyton finally got home, she decided she was in a writing type of mood; a blog writing type of mood. She logged on, and wrote. She wrote about everything; about how she was feeling, and how she wrote the notes, and how much she missed her old life. See, Peyton knew that not many people read what she wrote, but she also knew that a few did, so she made it more into a story; she wrote a story exactly like her life; characters portraying her and her life, and exactly how she was feeling. After typing for two hours straight, her story was finished, she posted her blog, took a bath, and headed off to bed.

Peyton woke up; It was 8:00 AM on Sunday, she had just enough time to get ready for work. Working at the movie theatre was usually so boring; she watched people come in, and out, and she sat at the snack counter waiting to service people whom could never make up their minds. Peyton was in the middle of putting extra butter on popcorn for a middle aged couple when she heard really loud laughter; she finished putting the butter on, and turned around. There he was; he was standing in the line the she was working on, and he was with Clarissa; a girl that she noticed him flirting with all the time. Sure, she was jealous, but she had no right to be. All the time they were best friends, she'd 

never been jealous of her girlfriends, and boy, he had a lot of girlfriends. Maybe it was just the fact that she got to spend time with her? Who knows, now wasn't the time to think about it; she was working. "Get me a large popcorn, a large coke, and a box of gummy worms," Lucas said to her. Peyton thought it was incredibly rude the way he said it, and she hated that he didn't say please, but she just said "Okay," and got right to filing his order. When she turned back around, he was whispering in Clarissa's ear; they both looked her way and started laughing. She didn't even want to know; she just wanted my day to end. Peyton handed them their food, and he handed her the money. He started to walk away, and Peyton could have sworn that when he thought she wasn't looking he turned back, and gave her a look of longing. "No, that's not possible; he can't stand me, it must be my imagination again," Peyton sadly thought to herself. She finished her shift, before Lucas's movie got out, thankfully, and she headed home. When she arrived, she finished everything she needed to, got ready for bed, and for school the next day, laid down, and cried herself to sleep.

"Peyton! GET UP! We're going to be late!" Brooke screamed as she walked into her room.

"I am up Brooke, I'm just in the bathroom, kay?"

"Oh, alright."

"Kay, ready to go?"

"Nope, but, let's head on out!"

They walked to Brooke's car, got in, and headed off to another fun filled day of high school. When they arrived, they did their usually, and separated ten minutes before class started. Peyton opened her locker and saw something fall to the ground; it appeared to be a note. She picked it up, and put it in her pocket, deciding to read it later when she had more time. When Peyton arrived to homeroom, she still had a good six minutes, so she took out the note and began to read:

_Peyton,_

_I read your blog; do you really think that way of me? I don't know what happened between us, but I don't appreciate the way you treat me these days. So, you honestly think that I didn't care, huh? Well, you must not have known me at all then, because you were the most important thing in my life back then, and I wish that you still were, but you don't even like talking to me anymore! I've seen you write those notes, you know. The ones that you write to _

_me all the time; I never quite understood why you didn't give them to me, but, I'm guessing you have a reason. Well, just stop thinking that you're not important to me, please, because I can't deal with that. I can deal with you not wanting to talk to me, but for you to think that you were never important to me is unacceptable._

_Lucas_

Tears were rolling down Peyton's face by the time that she was done with the note; the bell rang. Peyton wiped her eyes, looked up, and for the first time in months, she didn't give a rats-ass about what Mr. Lopez had to say. By the time lunch came, she had avoided everybody she knew, and hadn't thought about anything except the note. She walked into the lunchroom, note in hand, with tears rolling down her face; she found Brooke at their table, handed her the note, and sat down right next to her, leaning and crying on her shoulder. Brooke read the note, looked at Peyton, read the note again, and then hugged Peyton and didn't let go until the lunch period was over.

After lunch was over, instead of going to class, Brooke and Peyton checked out and left school. When they got to Peyton's house, Brooke went in with her, and they laid down on her bed.

"So, how are you going to reply to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Peyton, you have to reply to him. You can write him a note back, email him, or call him; you have to talk to him."

"But I don't want to!"

"Yes, you do, and we both know that, even if you don't want to admit it to me. Come on, let's go send him an email; we're going to tell him to meet you at your spot."

"He probably doesn't even remember where our spot was."

"Peyton, you read the note, too. I think he remembers."

"Okay Brooke, fine, but if this just embarrasses me more, or he's just playing a heartless prank on me, I'm going to have to kill you."

"Yeah, I know"

And just like that, the email was sent. Brooke wrote it pretending to be Peyton, asking Lucas to meet her at the spot that night around seven, and to call if he couldn't make it.

"Brooke?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to come with me?"

'I'll drop you off, and I'll stay in the car, but you're going to have to talk to him yourself."

"Are you sure you can't help me?"

"Yeah, I know I can't, and so do you; you're just scared of confrontation, and it's okay. Peyton, this is your closure; something you've needed for a long time."

"What do I need closure for? We were never together, so why is closure needed?"

"Because, you two were the most important things in each other's lives."

Peyton didn't respond, she just looked at Brooke, turned around, and went in the bathroom to take a shower; if she was going to have to talk to him tonight, she was going to make sure she looked okay.

When Peyton got out of the shower, she put on her favorite pair of jeans, and the shirt that Lucas had bought her for her birthday last year; she hadn't worn it since their fight. It was a band shirt; their favorite band. Peyton hadn't listened to them since, and even though it was the music she loved the most, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You look pretty hot," Brooke told Peyton when she walked back into her room.

"Thanks, I think?"

Peyton and Brooke sat down on Peyton's bed and talked; they talked about everything, and about nothing, and they didn't stop until they had to leave. When they got in the car, Brooke said "To your shirt!" and the put The Cure on. Peyton knew that a part of her didn't want to hear it; it hurt too much with all the memories it brought back. But, she started to sing along; she had almost 

forgotten how amazing it was; no matter what happened next, Peyton wasn't going to throw The Cure out of her life for a stupid boy.

When they arrived to the park, the little place in it that Peyton and Lucas always used to go to, Brooke gave her a hug, told her she loves her, and turned around and left. Peyton checked her phone; it was seven fifteen. She had been waiting for fifteen minutes; he must have forgotten what the place was after all. Peyton looked around one more time, began to walk, and then saw him step through the trees.

They just stood there, staring at each other, and not saying a word. Lucas stepped forward and went to grab Peyton's hand.

"Don't touch me," Peyton ordered Lucas sternly.

"Why not? Just talk to me Peyton! What's the big deal?"

"How'd you know what my blog meant? I didn't make it obvious, and it was a story! I didn't say it was how I felt, or how my life went; I made a story up of other people. Or why'd you even read it?"

"I always read your blogs. I knew it was you because I know you. I know everything about you; I can tell when you're feeling a certain way, and I know how to decipher what you mean out of something that you don't want to be deciphered."

"How? You haven't talked to me, actually talked to me, In over a year! So how can you say you know me?"

"Because I just do. And we haven't talked in over a year because you've made it damn well clear that you want nothing to do with me!"

"Yeah, is that what you think? You just told me you could read my emotions, but, you got that I wanted nothing to do with you? Well, that shoves your theory to hell!"

"I always thought you did, but every time I tried to talk to you, you either ignored me, replied with a short answer, or made it so nothing important was said."

"Don't you dare put this all on me! It was your fault! You started the fight, and you're the one who wasn't willing to end it! You didn't care when we stopped talking; you were fine with it. And I was so hurt, I couldn't get over it, and when I saw how quick you got over it, all that went through my mind was how you must 

have never cared. Because, if you did care, you wouldn't have gotten over it so fast."

"I had to get over it; I didn't want to be in pain. Yeah, it wasn't easy, but it's been a year, so why the hell aren't you over it? Why aren't you over me?"

And then it hit Peyton; suddenly, she knew why. She finally realized why he was always in her mind; why her heart fluttered when he looked at her; why he still meant so much to her.

"Because, I'm in love with you, Lucas; I am completely and utterly in love with you, and just trying to get over you has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You were everything to me; everything important, everything unimportant, everything I cared about, everything. I never cared that you were never going to be with me; that you were never going to love me the way that I loved you. I was always fine with that; all I wanted was you to be in my life, and me to be in yours, and to actually be of some significance to it. You were the person I talked to about everything, and when I saw you, and talked to you, no matter what it was about, I was always in the greatest mood. I hated when you mad at me, so every time you were, even if I didn't think that it was right, I did everything I could to fix it, because I knew that my life would never be complete without you; I knew that there'd always be a huge hole in my heart that I had a yearning to fill, but never could. And, it turns out I was right. I've tried to get over you; I've tried so damn hard, but no matter what I do, nothing seems to work. Most of the time I think that I'd be much happier if we were never friends, and then I remember all the amazing times we had, and I cry. I missed you so much, and I still do, and I'm sorry about it, but, I'm still in love with you, and there's nothing I can do about that."

Tears were streaming down Peyton's face by the time she was finished, and she just kept looking down; she refused to look at Lucas, nothing could make her.

"Peyton…….why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well, for one, I never realized it, until now," Peyton said with a chuckle. "And plus, you should have known I liked you; it was obvious."

"Not to me….."

"Well, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. You had so many girlfriends, and you never once hinted that you had any feelings for me, which you didn't. And if I would have told you, you probably would have just been freaked out, and you 

would have stopped being best friends with me. And even though that happened, we were still friends longer than we would have been."

"Peyton….."

"No, I'm leaving; I'm not going to embarrass myself more than I ever have. Goodbye Lucas…."

Peyton turned, and began walking as tears rolled down her face; more tears than she could have ever imagined. She began to sing in her head, "_I don't care if Monday's black, Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack, Thursday never looking back_,"

"It's Friday I'm In Love," Lucas yelled out.

Peyton turned around; her mascara was smeared, and her face was soaking wet. Had it been her imagination? There was no way that Lucas was singing the same song; that he knew what was going through her head,"

"Monday you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed, or Friday watch the walls instead,"

"It's Friday I'm in love," Peyton called back.

Peyton stopped right in her tracks; Lucas was walking towards her. She couldn't stop thinking; she had just told Lucas everything; for what? She didn't know. But now, what was going on? Lucas walked towards Peyton; he couldn't stop thinking how beautiful she looked, and how bad he felt for all the pain he caused her. Had he known that she was in love with him, he would have never tried to make her jealous all the time. He would have never started a fight, to stop making them friends, because he couldn't handle being in love with Peyton when she didn't love him back.

Lucas and Peyton were now three inches apart from each other; they just started into each other's eyes. Peyton was about to speak; Lucas grabbed her, and kissed her. Kissed her with a passion, and a feeling of love; the only kiss that had ever meant anything in his life. They kissed like the world depended on it; it was more intense than anything either of them had ever felt in their lives. When the kiss stopped, they just looked at each other.

"I love you, Lucas."

"I love you too, Peyton."


End file.
